I have had three deaths,
one for each decade.

I've had to hide them from myself,
pages of earth underneath the catacomb grey floorboards

so I could get on with the mundane
chore of life,

that ostrich sandy headed breath
eaten whole,

beyond sentiment,
dressed in clothes of darkness.

The pain from old wounds
ache like wedding white,

my final death will be
breaking through the canal of my birth.

Grant Tarbard is internationally published. His collection As I Was Pulled Under the Earth, published by Lapwing Publications, is available now.